Death & Rebirth
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In a forlorn and forgotten corner of the Foisantte manor within the city of Dal'Thala, there lay a journal, a thin coating of dust denoting months having passed since it was last touched.
The last will and testament of a man now long-dead.
The last will and testament of a man now long-dead.
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The machinations of my human heart have been ever difficult to process, over the past few years. My loyalty has held ever-firm in spite of the challenges posed.
No matter how many of my family and kin I was made to raise my blade against for the sake of Kitchi, pushed by the cruel whims of fate, I deemed it a worthy price for that which I had been offered. Not glory, nor fame or fortune.
No.
She offered me a peaceful retreat. An end I could be humble and content in. When she swore this dear promise to me, we mused upon our future together. To share a home together, to raise adopted wards and share a family, to paint together; for me to lend my height to her favor where the need did find itself.
Is it wrong for me to find such happiness in an idea so simple? To not find myself pursuing the ambitions of my blood, but something so human instead?
Perhaps Enarr would be disappointed. Solomon certainly seemed to be the last time I spoke to him. Hayden, even as he caved in my chest beckoned me on my path.
He encouraged me. Told me it was the right to do.
✧✧✧
But recently.
Kitchi broke that promise.
Surely it'll only be the once, right? For her to come home soaked in blood as she did with a captured prisoner of war in tow?
She promised me such days were behind her. I trust her, I have to. To give her a second chance is only fair.
But a third?
I don't know. The idea; of fathoming her breaking her word entirely... It haunts me. The mere idea brings my blood to a boil, I can't imagine she'd do such a thing to me though.
I will simply pray that such a day never comes to pass. That we can have that future we both painted together in our heads.
I can't imagine a life without her.
Marked at the front of journal, within the front of the cover in ink which suggests years of wear and tear; of ages far before a time within Dal'Thala, there lay a name inscribed.
✧
To my future self, Gestalt Emris.
She offered me a peaceful retreat. An end I could be humble and content in. When she swore this dear promise to me, we mused upon our future together. To share a home together, to raise adopted wards and share a family, to paint together; for me to lend my height to her favor where the need did find itself.
Is it wrong for me to find such happiness in an idea so simple? To not find myself pursuing the ambitions of my blood, but something so human instead?
Perhaps Enarr would be disappointed. Solomon certainly seemed to be the last time I spoke to him. Hayden, even as he caved in my chest beckoned me on my path.
He encouraged me. Told me it was the right to do.
✧✧✧
But recently.
Kitchi broke that promise.
Surely it'll only be the once, right? For her to come home soaked in blood as she did with a captured prisoner of war in tow?
She promised me such days were behind her. I trust her, I have to. To give her a second chance is only fair.
But a third?
I don't know. The idea; of fathoming her breaking her word entirely... It haunts me. The mere idea brings my blood to a boil, I can't imagine she'd do such a thing to me though.
I will simply pray that such a day never comes to pass. That we can have that future we both painted together in our heads.
I can't imagine a life without her.
Marked at the front of journal, within the front of the cover in ink which suggests years of wear and tear; of ages far before a time within Dal'Thala, there lay a name inscribed.
✧
To my future self, Gestalt Emris.
✧✧✧
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